


THE RAVEN/Wo willst du hin?

by hiddeninthecellar



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Advice, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, M/M, Ravens, Visions, complicated relationship, unusual guiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddeninthecellar/pseuds/hiddeninthecellar
Summary: Richard gets guidance from an unexpected and uncommon source and a little help from Flake along the way.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Till Lindemann
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	THE RAVEN/Wo willst du hin?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written a couple of months ago and partly based on an October Prompt that said "Raven" and partly on a dream. For appearance, I imagine this taking place slightly after the LIFAD-area. 
> 
> The line in the title is borrowed from "Seeman". Apart from that, the lyrics of "Seeman" are highly modified here.
> 
> Thanks to NikoNotHere for help and support.

THE RAVEN/Wo willst du hin?

Richard felt like the raven was watching him from its position on one of the highest branches in the old oak. The bird was immobile, and he thought he could discern dark eyes glittering in the side. He drew a deep breath.

An urge to bow his head in greeting surged over him. He brushed the impulse off, telling himself it was ridiculous. Why greet a bird? Instead, he raised his head and peered to get a better look. This late in October, the tree had been stripped of all leaves. In the pale afternoon light from the overcast sky, the naked contours looked nearly as black as the bird.

As if it noticed his curiosity, the raven lifted its wings and left the branch, only to descend and land on the lower ones, closer to him. The charcoal black feathers were lustrous and shimmering, like they had been polished. He halted his already slow pace. The bird's head was still turned toward him and it leaned its head to the side. In the close distance, he could see that the raven's intelligent eyes were dark brown. The glimmering color reminded Richard of a brown diamond he had once seen in a jewelry shop. He had wanted to buy it, but to his grief, it had already been sold to a buyer that wanted to remain anonymous.

The bird continued to watch him and cawed. Suddenly, an image of himself and another figure rowing in a boat over a dark lake appeared in his head, and a sense of urgency gathered at the bottom of his stomach. Because of the mist rising from the water, he couldn't see who the other person was; all he caught was a glimpse of short hair, sticking out from the hood the figure was wearing. Richard had the distinct impression it was someone he knew well-- someone who knew him just as well in return.

The image was gone in what must have been seconds, but the impression and all the details lingered with a clarity that surprised him. He removed his beanie and scratched himself on the head.

The raven cawed again, higher and harsher this time.  
_"Have you forgotten?"_

Richard widened his eyes. He didn't know where the question came from, whether it was his thoughts, or…the raven?

The bird met his gaze and moved its head as if in a nod.  
Yes.

As outrageous it seemed, it definitely was the raven.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked.

His initial thought hadn't been to speak out loud, but when he did, it felt like the natural thing to do. The raven didn't answer, but for a short second, he thought he saw something flicker by in the depths of its gaze. For his inner sight, he had another vision, where he saw himself getting out at the shore, leaving his companion in the boat. His heart started to hammer against his chest and he drew a deep breath. A feeling of loss filled him, and he wanted to scream to the other version of Richard that he had made the wrong decision. In the next second, the feeling changed, and he was convinced the other Richard had done the right thing.

He started to fetch his pack of cigarettes from the pocket in his hoodie, but decided against it and put them back. The raven's answering caw sounded like laughter and the glimmer in the eyes convinced him he had made a correct choice. He smiled happily, and he mused over why he felt so proud at doing something he imagined would please a bird.

"Reesh...what?" Paul said. "Did you say something? Who are you talking to?"

"He's talking to the raven," Flake answered right behind him. His tone of voice amazed Richard. Flake could often sound sarcastic and ironic, but not now. Instead, he said it like talking to wild birds was something perfectly common and normal.

"Which raven?" Paul asked.

Both Richard and Flake pointed at the tree.

Paul stopped in his pace and was, to the surprise of the others, quiet and still for some time, moving his gaze between Richard and the raven, before he spoke again.  
"This is strange indeed." His astonishment seemed so genuine, Richard turned to look at him. There was no trace of mockery neither in his face, nor in his voice."It does seem like it's looking directly at you."

"Ask her who sent her," Flake said.

Before Richard had the time to answer Paul facepalmed and turned to Flake.

"Who...sent...her? You think someone sent the raven? And how do you know it's a female? I didn't know you were that into crows."

Flake rolled his eyes at Paul's litany of words, but in his eyes there was a fond glint, revealing he wasn't irritated at all.  
"This may come as a surprise for you, but you don't know everything about me."

Paul snorted, but his returning smile radiated a warmth that made Richard feel left out for a short second. Their playful bantering seemed so lighthearted, but he knew it hadn't always been like that.  
Like he was noticing his thoughts and wanted to interrupt them, Flake turned towards Richard as he answered Paul's question.  
"I'm not sure it's a female, but it's a bit smaller than ravens in general, so I think it is."  
When Richard didn't answer, Flake nodded to the bird.  
"Who sent you?" Flake asked and turned towards the raven, who tilted its head and cawed.

Flake nodded.  
"Okay, so you can't tell me that."

"Oh, come on, give me a break, will you? Are you also talking to a bird now? And even trying to give us the impression that you get answers? What did the two of you take before we came here?"

"Ravens, like other corvids, are extremely intelligent," Flake said matter of factly, ignoring Paul's implications. "By far the most intelligent birds, and some scientists say they even outmatch big apes, like chimpanzees, but that is debated. They are capable of learning human speech as well."

"This one isn't speaking human language," Richard said, his gaze still locked with that of the bird's.

"Well you seem to have picked up on 'cawish' too, then," Flake deadpanned, followed by a giggle from Paul. "And communication can happen without words, as you should know."

In the sphere of the raven's eyes, Richard saw the lingering image of himself standing at the beach, looking after the slowly disappearing boat. Just before it disappeared beyond the horizon, the figure in the boat turned its head and looked back. He could feel the sense of both loss and determination that his other self felt. Conflicting emotions he was all too familiar with.

In the corner of his field of view, he could see Paul shaking his head. He tore his gaze away from the raven. It took much greater effort than he would ever have imagined. He inhaled deeply at the onslaught of inner pain and tried to focus on his breathing to distract himself. It worked, but only to an extent.

"Let's not linger here," he said, fighting to sound more positive and lighthearted than he felt. Judging by the skeptical looks on both Paul's and Flake's faces, his success was limited.  
In the same instant they started walking again, the raven lifted from the branch, flew in a circle above their heads, eerily quiet, before it swept down and landed on Flake's left shoulder. Flake gasped with surprise, muttered some curses under his breath before he relaxed and his facial expression changed from discomfort to resembling smugness. He whispered something to the raven, that Richard didn't hear.

"This is one of the strangest things I have ever experienced," Paul admitted where he was trotting right behind them. "If not *the* strangest. What is it with that bird?"  
At the sound of Paul's voice, the raven turned its head towards him for a short second, before returning its unwavering gaze to Richard while remaining seated on Flake's shoulder. This time it felt like the bird was trying to comfort him.

The raven remained in the same position until they reached the door to the old mansion. With a harsh croak, it spread its wings and flew away among the trees into the wood that surrounded the building.  
___________________________________________________

"Wow, this was unexpected," Flake said as he entered the living room a couple of hours later. "I didn't expect anyone else to be here so early. Especially not you."

Richard lifted his gaze from his phone and shrugged.  
"Well, I did plan to take a nap, but I couldn’t relax so I decided to get myself ready and wait down here instead."

Flake sat down in a big armchair on the other side of the table. The living room was large, with two huge windows showing the backyard of the mansion. In the dusk of the evening outside, all that could be discerned was the dark contours of trees in the distance. The only furniture consisted of two sagging, cognac-colored sofas and two armchairs around a wooden table. The paintings on the wooden walls showed the same landscape during different times of the year, and in different weathers. In all of the paintings, black birds were sitting in the trees. Richard supposed that they were ravens.

"Are you that eager to taste Till's and Schneider's catch?"

Richard shook his head and put down his phone on the table. "No. To be honest, I'm not hungry." He drew a deep breath in hesitation before he continued to speak: "I know you're going to say that I'm batshit crazy, and you're probably right, but earlier today, I got these visions. And I think it was the raven that sent them to me somehow, you know."

Richard could only describe Flake's smile as cunning.  
"Not more crazy than usual. I'm not surprised at all. I suspected you'd gotten messages of some sort, considering how lost in thoughts you appeared to be afterward."

"What kind of visions?" he continued after a short glance at the paintings on the wall.

After telling about the visions, Richard had expected Flake to make another sarcastic remark, but he only nodded and thought for a long time before he answered.  
"I don't know, but the ravens were believed to be messengers of gods, or between the living and the dead," Flake finally said. "They brought messages about bad times, death, and loss."

Richard studied his newly painted nails with keen interest. The shining black color reminded him of the raven's feathers. He sighed. He was truly obsessed.  
"Yeah, that's what I have heard too, but this doesn't feel malevolent. Disturbing, yes, but not evil. The opposite, if anything; it felt more like… caring."

Flake took off his clean glasses and started to polish them with the cloth from the case he had brought in the pocket of his shirt.  
"Well, they're also told to bring wisdom and guidance for those who have lost their path-- a shove for those who need to see a different perspective. Ravens deliver messages to those who need it… and to those who deserve it. If you can interpret what she shows you, you will know--” Flake paused as he put his glasses back on and looked closer at him, "what you are missing and searching for."

Richard looked thoughtfully back at him as he let the full meaning of Flake's words sink into him. He wished he could laugh instead, to brush them off like Paul would do. He wanted to say that Flake only talked about myths and fairy tales. He didn't know if it was the fact that it was the end of October, the somewhat eerie surroundings, the dying light of day, or the memory of the shimmering dark creature that made Flake's words seem perfectly logical and sane. Or, it could be all of the reasons combined with his soft spot for mysticism.  
"Do you think I need to see things from a different perspective? That I don't know what I'm missing?"

Flake snorted. "Of course. You keep yourself in the dark about some things. It's a shame you need a raven to tell you so."

Richard started to tell Flake that he was wrong, that he knew what he was missing, or rather who--that he had always known, and that the problem was only that he didn't have the strength to act upon that knowledge.

He never got the chance. Their conversation was interrupted when Oli and Paul entered the room. Paul was happily chattering about the upcoming dinner and some extravagant coffee he had brought for them to taste afterward. Oli hummed in affirmation, which made Richard smile. That man was always so polite. He didn't drink coffee. Paul was of course well aware of that, but he never missed an opportunity to try to make Oli change his mind.

______________________________________________________________________

"Roast steak?" Paul asked half an hour later when they finally were seated around the dining table. "I thought you were supposed to serve the fish you caught today. Or did you decide to steal a cow instead?"

Schneider grunted and rolled his eyes with a deep sigh.

Till muttered something inaudible between clenched teeth before responding.  
"Well, not a whole cow and actually we paid for it this time at the local grocery store," he said dryly and crossed his arms.

His stern attitude didn't seem to bother Paul at all.  
"Seems like Schneider has a good influence on you, then," Paul giggled, as it appeared, very pleased with himself with the joke. When everyone else remained quiet, he silenced with a sigh, at the moment accepting the others weren't in the same playful mood. Richard knew it wouldn't be for long, though.  
"Okay, I'll try to be as serious as the rest of you guys," he sighed, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes lingered.

"But what happened? What made you change your mind? Wasn't fishing supposed to be amazing in this area?" Oli asked directly after they had made a toast and started to eat.  
Till and Schneider passed each other an odd look that made Richard slightly uncomfortable. He didn't understand why it affected him at all. It shouldn't, but so much was strange today.

"Well, we have only one small fish left. We reckoned that wouldn't be enough for the six of us," Schneider said as he shifted in his chair and accidentally bumped it at the table, causing the candles in the giant candlestick in the middle of the table to flicker. The shadows of the fluttering lights on the wall heightened the already tense and ghostly atmosphere in the room.

"Left? What do you mean? When you texted me earlier, you told me you had an excellent catch! Both pikes, perches, and even pike-perches," Paul said with a surprised glance at Schneider. Schneider looked back with an inscrutable look in his clear blue eyes and shook his head.

"Did you throw the fish back into the lake??" Paul then continued before Schneider or anyone else had the chance to answer, like he so often did. His face lit up in a wicked smile, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes underlining the mischief sparkling in his eyes. Apparently, he had already forgotten that nobody had appreciated his earlier attempts at joking even faster than Richard had expected.

Schneider nudged Till in the side, who had been staring out in the far distance.  
Till flinched and blinked his eyes like he had been woken by an alarm in the morning. He looked tired, Richard thought, but not in a sleepy way.

"Oh...well," he said in his soft voice that made shivers run down Richard's spine. Shivers that didn't have anything to do with fear. Or, not just fear, at least.

"There was a flock of ravens in the trees around the lake. They stole the fishes," Till said and shrugged. "We tried to hide them in the basket, but as soon as we turned our backs, they opened the lid and stole them from there instead. When we tried to stop them, they attacked us."  
The tone of his voice was neutral, like he was doing a recitation of something that happened daily. Richard knew he could sound like that when he wished to be somewhere else.

"How utterly strange," Oli burst so loud everyone turned to look at him. He was often quiet, and when he did talk, his voice usually was mellow and calm. "When I was up on the roof to check the view, two ravens came and dumped two fishes in front of me before flying away back into the woods."

Silence fell over the table once again. Richard took a bite of the steak as he thought about the visions, or whatever it was he had gotten from the raven. A realization of who the person sitting in the boat could be hit him like a blow to his head. The one who had rowed him there and left him at the shore to row away, with only a single glance back. It was so simple. Flake was probably right about him being oblivious about some things. Or to be, precise, in denial.

Richard looked right over the table and met Till's unwavering gaze. At first, he had gotten unnerved that he had been seated directly opposite him and wondered how he would be able to focus on the food. Now, however, it felt comforting to look into Till's green eyes. He couldn't hold back a smile, and much to his surprise, Till's smile was warm when he smiled back. In the next instant, he scolded himself. Till was always warm and gentle. It was Richard that too often craved more open affirmation of what he knew was there below the surface. Till preferred to be more private.

Flake's earlier remark about words not always being necessary returned to Richard when Till nodded.

Richard put the fork back on his plate and took a deep gulp of the red wine. He knew it wasn't the correct thing to do; the wine was of an exclusive and expensive sort and should be digested slowly. Right now, he didn't care. The need to distract himself was bigger.

Till raised one eyebrow and his smile deepened for a short second.

"What the hell is it with this place and the ravens?" Paul cried out again. He sounded irritated, but Richard knew that was because, despite all his teasing, he also felt uncomfortable, probably because both of the stretched silence and the situation with the ravens.

"That wasn't all, Till; you didn't tell everything," Schneider said before he, too, reached for his glass of wine. "They didn't only steal the fish."

Till raised his glass of red wine, but in contrast to Richard, he only took a small sip before putting it down on the table again.  
"Well…" he paused before he continued running his hands through his hair, like he was thinking about what to say. "The ravens were doing some kind of trading, then," he nodded to Oli who was watching him intently. "They brought a couple of fake silver rings that they put into the basket where we were supposed to keep the fish."  
"I'm not sure I like this," Paul interrupted, putting his hands in front of him. "The ravens are creepy. Do you know what happened to us while we were scouting around the area earlier?"

"No, how are we supposed to know that when you haven't told us?" Schneider answered with a smirk. "Or do you think we are psychic?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw Flake lean his head in his hands to hide a sigh. Richard looked at Till once again, just to see his reaction, he told himself. Till had leaned back against the backrest and crossed his arms, like he hadn't any intention to eat. He met his thoughtful gaze again. He realized Till was watching only him, not the others. Maybe he had done so all the time, like he so often did. Had it been someone else who looked at him unwavering like that, he may have found it uncomfortable. He would have considered it staring.  
Richard knew Till didn't miss a single word of what the others were saying, in contrast to himself, who had stopped focusing on anything else.

Richard put his elbows on the table as if to steady himself, and as if the wood beneath would help to ground him enough to return to the conversation around him. It worked.

“...and it even sat down on Flake's shoulder."  
Paul's voice came floating back, in a way similar to breaking through the surface after being underwater. "Richard?"

He blinked and realized that everyone, not only Till, looked at him like they were expecting him to say something.  
"Excuse me, I was a bit lost in thoughts…"

"In thoughts?" Paul snorted, "I would rather say you were lost in…"

Flake hit him in the elbow, and to Richard's surprise, it worked. Paul went silent, but Richard didn't miss the glance he shot both him and Till. By now Richard was well aware of the fact that the man was way more perceptive than one would otherwise assume.

"Actually, what we wondered, all of us..."Schneider began.

"Almost all of us," Flake interrupted with a smile.

"Well, except for the crow whisperer, of course," Schneider continued with a smirk, but his gaze was fond when he looked at Flake. "What do you think the crow wanted to tell you?"

Richard sighed inwardly. That question had been asked many times today, he thought. Most of all by himself. He shot another glance over the table, and he was sure he saw Schneider's question reflected in Till's eyes.

Till nodded. Richard felt a warm tingle in his stomach. He knew so well the nod didn't only mean he was curious about the raven.

"I'm not sure if it wanted to tell me anything," Richard said and hoped Flake wouldn't tell the others about the visions. "It just had a strange way of looking at me. I might have imagined it all."

Flake remained quiet, but the look he sent Richard and crossed his arms told him he didn't approve of Richard's avoidance tactics.

"But it's also fascinating...why did it sit on your shoulder, Flake?" Oli intervened.

"I don't know. I had a friend who had a raven as a pet once. That's all."  
Flake's statement was firm, a clear sign he was not keen on discussing it further.

Till took another deep gulp of the wine and choked on it. He made an avoiding gesture when the others looked at him.  
"Maybe can we just continue to eat now? The food is getting cold," Till said after he had managed to stifle the cough. Richard couldn't remember ever being so thankful for food before in his life. Especially when he wasn't hungry.

When they ate, at Oli's insistence, they ended up discussing the lives of ravens and crows in general: about their presumed as well as proved intelligence, and the many myths surrounding them. Myths ranged from many cultures from places all over the world, like the Nordic god Odin's two tame ravens: Hugin for the thoughts and Munin for the memory. Richard couldn't stop himself from drawing parallels to what the raven had "asked" him.

All their strange experiences got lost on the way. Richard felt relieved about it. For reasons he found it hard to put words to, he didn't want to discuss anything about them anymore with the others. Richard wasn't sure if he wanted to think about it either; something was disturbing about it, and he couldn't hold back doubts about his sanity. If there were a threat to his mental health, there probably was to the other's too, considering how easily they had accepted the both odd behavior of the ravens, and seemed to think that it actually wanted to tell him something.

He lifted his glass to his lips. Not until then did he notice he had already emptied it. With determination, he grabbed the bottle and refilled it to the brim.

_____________________________________________________________________

Right before he was about to go up to his room, he saw Flake and Till beside the stairs. Flake said something to Till who shook his head in protest. Flake patted him on the shoulder before he turned to leave for his room on the ground floor. Till went up the stairs without a single glance back.  
Richard couldn't explain to himself why he got the distinct impression that whatever they had talked about, it included the raven-- "his” raven, not the ones that had stolen the fishes.

____________________________________________________________________________

As soon as Richard fell asleep, the vision he had seen in the raven's eyes played before his inner sight again, only this time it was he that was sitting in the boat and rowed away from the person standing on the shore.

_"Haven't you understood? Where do you belong?"_

He woke with a start. At first, he didn't understand what had awakened him. Then he heard the odd scraping at the window and realized that was the source of the sound that had disturbed him.

On shaking legs, he staggered over to the window and drew the heavy curtains aside. Outside, darkness reigned. The sky was still overcast, the clouds now covering both the moon and the stars. The only light came from an old type of street lantern right beside the large oak whose long branches were scratching at the glass in the slow wind, like it wanted him to open the lock.

He drew a deep breath. On one of the tree's highest branches, he could see the dark shape of a bird. Despite the poor illumination, he was certain it was the same raven he had seen earlier that day. Just like then, it sat immobile like it was still watching and still waiting. He couldn't be sure in the darkness, but when it tilted its head to the side, he felt like their eyes met. This time he wasn't surprised at the reassuring words forming in his mind.  
_"He will come."_

Richard didn't move, nor did he turn around when he heard the door open with a low creak behind him. Being more than a little drunk, he had forgotten to lock the door. Or, if he was honest with himself, he hadn't bothered, in case someone would come. He smiled and nodded at the shadow in the tree.

He remained in the same position, looking at the raven, as the light steps approached and strong arms wrapped his waist. In the same moment that he felt a tongue against his neck moving down along his shoulder, the black bird spread its wings and flew away, soon gone into the night.

Not until then did he turn around to press his lips against those he had waited for, for what felt like forever. The familiar musky scent, his taste, a mix of toothpaste and the alcohol he had drunk-- everything intoxicated him. Till's lips felt softer than usual, softer than he thought he remembered. Or maybe the arousal that filled him deceived his senses. It had been too long.

It had always been too long, he thought as he buried his hand in Till's hair.

Richard opened his mouth against Till's already opened lips, feeling the tip of his tongue against his. They kissed, he didn't know for how long, just that they both were out of breath when they broke apart.

"You came," he panted and leaned his forehead against Till's.

"Did you doubt? Do you think I would deny you? "

"I didn't ask. You read my thoughts, perhaps," Richard's voice sounded strangled as Till's fingers traced the contours of his lips.

"Not with words, but yes, you asked. I know your signs by now."

Communication without words. Like a theme for the whole day, Richard thought as he started, automatically, to protest.

The stream of words was interrupted by his lover's fingers, soon followed by a tongue, moving down his body, mapping the contours like they explored unknown territories-- as if they touched him for the first time.

It wasn’t the truth, as they had done this countless times throughout the years, for what it felt like for Richard at those occasions, forever. He almost couldn't recall the time before they met and before they had started these small "benefits.”  
"Forever," he whispered, voicing the last word in his thoughts out loud, referring to much more than Till's statement.

He felt Till pause for a short second, and Richard thought he could feel a smile against the skin right above his navel. In a wish to prolong the moment, he placed his hands on Till's shoulders and drew him up so their lips could meet again, craving his kisses like he would crave water after spending too much time under the sun on a hot day.

He reached for Till's belt and opened it with nimble fingers. Not until then did he fully notice that Till had stripped to the waist before he went to Richard's room. Richard himself, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in only his boxers.

Till stepped out from his trousers that had fallen to his feet after Richard had opened the belt and wrapped his arms around Richard's waist again. He drew him close and they kissed again as they, as if on their own accord, ground their hips together.

Despite his burning arousal and growing impatience, Richard put his hand on Till's chest and stopped him when Till started to walk him toward the bed.

"Not the bed," he said between heavy pants and pointed at the window sill. "This is broad enough."  
Richard was surprised himself. He had no clue where it came from, but as soon as he had uttered the words, it seemed like a perfect idea.

"What? Is that really a good idea? We may be watched," Till chuckled. "Doesn't that bother you?"

Richard shook his head and pushed his hips against Till's again. He smirked when he felt Till's erection twitch against his own at his words."No one will be watching. Have you forgotten we're on the third floor? And if someone indeed does watch, don't try to fool me it would bother you."

With a frustrated sigh that Richard knew was fake, Till lifted him and carried him to the window. After removing both his own and Richard's boxers in one single fluid motion, he put him down on the sill.  
"That depends on who is watching," Till mumbled before he bit down on Richard's shoulder.

Richard flinched, a surprised yelp leaving from his mouth, which soon turned into ragged pants as Till once again began to map his way down Richard's chest, tantalizingly slowly. In the light from the dim lamp on the outside, the wet trail left from Till's tongue gleamed along with the sweat that broke out on his skin. Richard felt like time stood still, like Till had set his mind to not leaving one single piece untouched, before he finally, after what felt like an eternity, closed his mouth around his throbbing dick.

Richard moaned, unable to be quiet, when Till's skillful tongue moved over the slit, up and down, still with a teasing slowness like he was savoring both Richard and the moment. He tensed and leaned back against the glass, to steady himself and enjoy the sensation of Till's skilled tongue along with his hands cupping his balls. He buried his hands in Till's hair and tore at the strands in a way he for a moment worried would be painful.

The tiny voice of reason, however, drowned in the sensation as Till cupped his cheeks and mouthed him, bit by bit, until he had taken the most of him into his mouth. Till knew so well what he liked, like no one else did. Throughout the years, he had learned. Richard liked to think he had learned about Till too, and that it was experience that made their encounters special, that made them return to this.

"Till, please, if you keep going, I'm going to-- not yet-- I want you... inside me.”  
He had to force the words out and was a bit amazed that Till understood what he said. Richard knew he was impatient, but he had felt so tense the whole day, and more so after the dream. Now that he had the most effective and perfect distraction literally at his feet, he couldn't wait.

Till paused and released him slowly from his mouth with a popping sound. Richard immediately missed the wet warmth on him, and despite being the one that had demanded him to stop, he let out a small whimper.  
Till smiled softly. "So eager," he whispered as he stood up, wrapped his arms around Richard's waist again, reached for his lips, and licked into his mouth. "I hate to break the spell, but… lube?"

Richard gritted through his teeth, his first impulse to tell Till to skip it, that it'll take too much time, but he knew he'll be in trouble without it. It had been too long for reasons he didn't want to dwell on at this moment. Desire rushed through his body like it had replaced blood in his veins. Through the daze, he marveled at the power of his need as he nodded towards a small bag beside the bed.

"Turn around and lean forward," Till directed huskily after he had fetched the bottle.

Richard did so and spread his legs as much as he could to help Till get better access. At first, he tried to steady himself on the windowsill, but when Till stretched him, the sensations made his knees got so weak he pressed his hands on the glass instead, his cock twitching and leaking precum. Reflected in the glass and through the condensation his breath created, he could see Till apply a generous amount of lube on himself. The blurry picture was one of the most arousing he had ever seen.

Till leaned forward, then ran his hands slowly and reverently along Richard's sides and over his ass. "So soft," he murmured, his voice thick with something resembling awe.

"Please," Richard muttered between clenched teeth, shivers of need running through his body, making his arms shake.

Till's smile seemed devilish to Richard.  
"Whatever you want." Till placed his hand on the small of Richard's back, making him lean slightly deeper forward. Till coated himself twice more before he slowly started to push inside.  
"You're so tight," Till whispered and drew back before pushing inside again. Richard breathed deeply at the sensation of discomfort that gradually was replaced by pleasure as Till increased his pace. With a throaty moan, he pushed back against Till, pulling him inside as deep as possible. Till stiffened and halted his movements for a second to hold them both still. Richard knew Till wanted to savor the feeling of Richard's heat surrounding him, to feel them becoming one. Exactly like he did.

"Be careful," Till panted. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Fuck me," Richard grunted, exhaling and watching his breath deepen the mist on the glass their breaths had already created.

He grabbed Richard's hips firmly, to help him keep his balance, and to prevent him from falling. He would never let him fall. Till's grip was so strong, Richard suspected he would have bruises to remind him tomorrow. He wouldn't mind, and it wouldn't be the first time. With a clarity that struck him right through his lust like lightning from a clear blue sky, definitely not the last. Amidst it all, the thought felt comforting.

The night and the air in the room was still and quiet around them. All that could be heard was their mixed breathing and the meeting of their sweaty bodies against each other. Richard knew what a challenge it was for Till to maintain the rhythm with them both standing like this, but he knew Till was fighting to do his best. And his best was more than enough, as he with every single thrust hit Richard's prostate and made white spots dance before his eyes. He wouldn't last long, he knew, when he felt himself clench around Till’s cock.

"Don't hold back; come for me," Till commanded immediately, with another deep thrust at Richard's prostate.

Richard didn't need more. With a groan, he came all over Till's hand, at the same time staining the window sill and the glass. It didn't take long before he felt Till following him, shaking violently as he filled him.

They remained in the same position for some time as their ragged breathing calmed down, Till's chin resting on his shoulder. Richard enjoyed their closeness, but after a short time, the weight of Till started to feel heavy on his back. Richard shifted his position and hoped Till would understand the signal. Richard still hissed at the feeling of loss when Till pulled out of him. He turned around on wobbly legs and practically fell into Till's arms.

"Woah, take it easy," Till smiled and kissed his sweaty brow. With Till's arms wrapped around his waist, Richard could feel Till trembling equally violently.

They sank on the floor in a sweaty, sticky heap, panting heavily, neither of them able to stand upright any longer. Richard grunted. He was unable to stop the shivering of both his arms and legs, a physical reminder that standing sex at a window maybe wasn't the most practical idea he's ever had. Till put an arm around his shoulders and dragged him close against his chest. Richard leaned into the embrace with a pleased sigh.

"Shall we go and take a shower?" Richard mumbled when he felt how badly Till's arms still were shaking. "It might keep us from getting stiff, and reduce the trembling."

The answering groan didn't sound especially positive, but Till rose from the floor, arms still firmly wrapped around Richard. With a mischievous grin on his face, he practically carried him to the bathroom.

__________________________________________________________________________  
After the shower, they sat in bed, Till leaning against the headboard and Richard resting between his legs, head on his chest. Till drew circles on Richard's arms, both enjoying being close as well as the calm they felt after the relief from tension.

Richard felt tired and drowsy, almost on the verge of falling asleep. When he looked at the window he could still see the marks from his hands and the white stains on the glass. One of them should probably rise and wipe them away, but Richard didn't feel up for it, both because of how blissful he felt in his current position and because he liked the proof of their previous activities.

A moving winged shadow on the outside made a sudden thought appear in his head.  
"Till?"

"Mmhm," Till answered, somewhat reluctantly as he moved his fingers from Richard's arms to his hair and kissed him on his head. Richard knew Till sometimes only wanted to silently think and be close to cuddle after sex, and apparently, this was one of those times.

"The lake where you and Schneider fished... what did it look like?"

"Hmm, why do you ask? It was nothing special."  
His fingers ran through the short strands of his hair, like he was trying to comb it, and massaged his scalp. It felt heavenly, but Richard knew Till's main purpose for doing it right now was to distract him. He wasn't in the mood for conversation.

No matter how nice, Richard wasn't going to let him get away with it, though.  
"I mean, was it surrounded by tall firs and pines that shut out the light? Was the water so deep it looked like it was black? And was there a thin line of shore, and a glen that ended directly into the water with an old pier, made of wood so old it had turned grey, that made you wonder whether it would break if you tried to walk on it?"

Till tensed behind him and paused his movements in his hair.  
"How did you know that? Did you, Flake, and Paul go there on your walk? I didn't think you went that way at all, and it was quite a long way to walk." His voice had become intent, proving Richard had caught his interest.

Richard drew a deep breath and looked out again. In the tree right in front of the window, he saw a now-familiar shadow on one of the branches. He had expected it and felt grateful that she-- he realized Flake had been right, he just knew the raven was a she-- had the decency to leave earlier.

He turned his head to look Till in the eyes. Then he told him about the visions he got from the raven.

Till was quiet for a long time after Richard had stopped talking. Then he kissed him on the forehead.  
"And now you know who the other person in the boat was?" was all Till asked and traced his finger over Richard's lips.

Richard nodded.  
"Do I need to say it out loud? Because I think you understand too."

Till's kiss was answer enough.

Richard leaned his head back on Till's chest again. This time when he looked out, he saw that another, slightly larger shadow had joined the raven on the branch.

Something Flake had said earlier came back to him.  
_"After fooling around in their youth, ravens stay with one mate for the rest of their lives."_  
_________________________________________________________________________

The light of the sun peeking out behind the clouds illuminated the room, but the sheets felt cold when Richard pried his eyes open several hours later. He was alone in the bed. Only the contours of the pressed down mattress on the other half of the bed was proof someone else had been there at all.

He blinked and looked out through the stained window. On the same branch right in front of the window, the raven was still sitting. Or maybe she had returned, he didn't know.

"Does your companion also leave at dawn?" he asked. He didn't know whether he was talking out loud or not.

He saw her open her beak. He didn't her answering caw, but the words in his head were clear enough:  
_"He's not here, but he's near._ "

The words made the gloom in his mind disappear along with the clouds. He knew she wasn't only referring to her mate.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think, also feel free to point out mistakes.  
> Thanks in advance,
> 
> Greetings from  
> S.


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